The panama hat trail

The first time I saw lot's of panama hats for sale was in Merida (Mexico), which is a city full of handicrafts and art shops. Panama hats and yucatan hammocks was on offer in every other market stall but as I obviously can't carry a hammock around the continent, a hat would be a more appropriate purchase. However, I thought, why should I buy a panama hat in Mexico when I will pass by Panama itself a little bit later? As it actually made sense, I agreed with myself and consequently walked past all sellers shouting out their more or less amazing 'just-for-you-my-friend'-offers.

A couple of months on, I entered Panama City from Costa Rica. I remembered the hat-quest and kept one of my eyes open for artisans while touring the touristic sites of town, which often were flanked by souvenir stalls. It first surprised me how few hats were for sale but as I eventually learned that the panama hat actually is from Ecuador, the absence of hat makers instantly made sense.

If I have waited this long I can wait a bit more, I thought, knowing that to get to Peru from Colombia one normally has to pass through Ecuador (unless journey through the jungle on river-boats).

The panama hat is Ecuador’s most famous export and during decades, Ecuador has mistakenly credited another country for its crown jewel among trade. The hat probably got its nickname from the time when most products made in Latin America were transported to the ports in Panama, for further distribution to the rest of the world.

Enthusiastically, I finally entered Quito, the capital of Ecuador and visited a few markets where I thought they might sell hats. Indeed, there were the odd panama hats for sale but, I reckoned, they were not of not the best quality as it seemed. And not good value either. Fellow travellers coming from the south however said that Cuenca was a good place to find a hat. Said and done – Cuenca was already on my planned route.

Arriving in Cuenca on old Inka-territory a few days later, if possible even more enthusiastic, I had few other things planned for this city. It took just a few hours in the morning to walk around in the centre, soak up the local atmosphere and look at the main sights. So hat-hunt, here we come.

With the results in hand I am certain that I was looking in the wrong places and that you indeed can find lots of panama-hats in Cuenca. However, most hats that I found were of another type: the local traditional-dress-hat, which is worn by both men and women. Cuenca is located in the south highlands and a fair share of locals here walks around wearing the traditional dress, in particular the older generation.

While not making much progress on my panama hat quest, I at least learned new things: To most people from Ecuador (with at least a pinch of pride), the hat is called a ‘toquilla-straw-hat’, named after the toquilla-straw, which is a fine straw endemic to the region and which the hats are made of. To the connoisseur, it is a Montecristi, named after the most famous hat-making village in the country. It certainly is no PANAMA hat...

It was now getting more interesting and the most logical step at this stage was to re-structure the final time in Ecuador and include a detour to the village of Montecristi, near the Pacific coast. Let’s get it over with, I thought, and went to Manta (the city outside which Montecristi is located).

The next morning my quest continued with arriving to Montecristi. Getting off the bus on the main road and walking a few blocks towards the centre, it first didn’t look much like a hat-village but immediately on arriving to the central square, lined with an imposing church and a few banks, there was a market in the middle where they (almost) only sold hats. Impressive; I had indeed come to the right place.

Here the difference in quality amongst the hats could easily be observed. Each market stall had a range of different qualities, which was determined by the size of the straw. The cheaper hats were woven with a course material and the more expensive models were made of fine straw. It soon also became evident that there is something they call ‘super-fine’; the finest, most tightly woven hat of all.

To have a look at the ‘super-fine’, I went to the famous shop of José Chávez Franco (cool to have two dictator-surnames by the way) behind the church, who reputedly was the best hat-maker the village had seen. In his factory and shop were the most amazing ­’super-fine’ hats for sale for up to US$200 (possibly more) and this was still cheap factory prices, they hadn’t even been exported yet! At this point, it wasn’t that funny anymore because it had quickly gone from some cheap poor-quality Mexico-copies to far beyond my budget.

After this debacle I decided to bargain for a mid-quality hat on the church-plaza market. Knowing that before I got home, the hat would probably get stolen, lost or damaged, I settled for a slightly cheaper one for around $20, which I managed to bargain down to $13 as I was the first customer that day. It still looked much better than the budget hats going for $10.

The market in Montecristi was the end of the panama hat trail. Happy days.